Ashes to Ashes
by Muad-Dib the Mouse
Summary: In post-apocalyptic America, a woman must travel in search of other friendly survivors, while avoiding cannibals, starvation and any other trial she comes across.
1. Chapter 1

She walked slowly across the burnt, cracked highway. It was clear that she had nowhere to go. Her feet dragged, her hands hanging at her sides. Her limp hair, once a fair golden colour, hung around her head, dark grey, the colour of the ash.

She stopped, turned her head ever so slightly to the right. Looked out across the ashen plain stretching out to eternity. She gazed for what seemed like ages, standing there, looking towards her fate. She looked up, quite suddenly, now looking towards the grey that was much the same as the great plain. She thought of the sun, how happy it used to make her. Now thoughts of it just made her more weary than ever. She pretended she saw a small ray of hope breaking through, and her interminable longing for that to happen made tears began to trickle down her grime streaked face. She stood, standing there, staring up at the dead sky, praying to the god she knew wasn't listening and crying. When she was done praying, she lowered her head again and began her endless shuffle along the road once more.


	2. Chapter 2

After two more days of tired, hungry walking the plain on the left was broken up by a field of mud and scattered ashes. She realised how thirsty she was, and stopped again. She checked her small bag. Almost no water left. She unscrewed the cap of her little bottle, took a small sip. Held it up to eye level. Enough to last another day, then probably a day and a half to live. She accepted this fact in its entirety. Death would be welcome to her at this point. She put her bottle back in her bag, took out the small envelope. The writing on the front was illegible, though she could remember when it had once said: memories. She slipped her hand inside.

Just one glimpse.

She withdrew her hand, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. Replaced the envelope. Looked around once more. Just small, sentimental objects. Her ring. An old roll of film, still undeveloped. A guitar pick. More dreams of the past. It would be best for her to throw them across the road. But something stayed her hand. She closed the bag, slung it on her back. She began to walk again, going into the great who-knows-what. That's what everything was to her.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day she came to a bridge. Most likely that meant running water, but there was chance of it being a dry ravine. She had to take that chance. Her water had run out that morning and she kept that in mind as she walked up to the bridge. She looked down towards the embankment and saw a small stream. She took off her bag and let it slide down the slope. She herself began to crawl down, facing towards the top. When she reached the flat ground at the bottom, she walked to the edge of the stream and ran her hands through it to move the ash. When she had finished, she used what seemed like her last bit of strength to lean her head forward and drink. When she had drank her fill, she filled up the bottle. Careful to not get the envelope wet, she wiped the bottle on her ragged shirt. As she put the bag on her back, she thought that she heard voices above. She walked over to the embankment as fast as her tired legs would allow. She listened carefully.

We're almost outta food.  
It'll be fine. We'll find some soon.  
You always say that.  
Jesus, I'm thirsty. How much water?  
Plenty, but we should get it outta this stream anyway. Then she heard a third voice, a woman's voice.  
Please...I need water...it's almost here... She heard this, becoming alarmed. They were dehydrating that woman, and, from the sound of it, she was pregnant. She had to do something.  
Shut up, bitch, you're only here for two things. For when we're bored; and when you die, you will serve another purpose. She heard one of the men grunting, dirt and ash shifting to her left, around the corner. She slid to her right, got down behind an old, cracked concrete pillar. Slowly slid her knife from its sheath. She had to do something. As she heard the sounds of the man lapping at the water, she crept silently behind him. Relatively tall. Skinny; though large compared to most other people. She walked carefully and quietly, lest she make a noise. Held up the knife, put it around his throat. He froze.

Who are you and what the fuck do you want. Very quiet.  
I am saving that woman whom you have been raping and starving.  
We'll give her up; we have food. You need her more than us.  
You sick cannibal. I'm not going to eat her.  
In that case, you won't get her for free. She grimaced, and swept her blade across his throat. She pulled his body back quickly, so no blood would hit the water. She dragged him over to a dark corner where he wouldn't be seen.

Mark! Where are you? She gripped her knife very tightly, ready to spring upon the man when he came down.  
I'm coming down there! When he walked in front of her at first he was clueless. He stopped. Turned around. Saw her, with his mouth wide in surprise. Began to raise his gun, but she had already stabbed him in the neck. She grabbed his gun, wrenched it out of his hands. Kneed his groin, and he fell, lying on the ground, dying and yelling. She searched his body, found three extra rounds for his pistol, along with the seven in it. The other man had a large revolver. Four for that. She shoved the second man's body into the corner along with his buddy, and began to climb back up.


	4. Chapter 4

When she reached the top, the other woman was already halfway across the bridge, waddling as quickly as she could. She ran after the pregnant woman and grabbed her shoulder.

Get away from me!

I'm here to help you.

You're not…not...one of…_them_?

No. I'm not.

Oh thank God.

Don't thank God. God has done nothing for us. Except for dooming us all.

I believe that God is helping us.

You're wasting your time…but any other survivors are needed to survive. Do you wish to come with me?

Of course. Where are you going?

I don't know. I guess I'll know when I get there.

Okay then. I'm Linda. And she shook her hand.

What's your name?

I…don't remember. I think that when…whatever happened happened…I must have gotten hit on the head or something…

That's too bad.

Yes, it is. But we have more important things to be worrying about right now. See there? Back to the…east? Direction isn't important. Back that way. She pointed vaguely to a large mass of dark grey clouds.

Storm.

Yes. We need to find shelter before it reaches us. The wind is coming directly at us from it. She and Linda began to walk down the road in search of shelter. They came up next to a forest full of dessicated trees, lifeless hulks through which they could see ash drifting down. She felt a raindrop.

We need to hurry. It's starting. The sky above was a darker grey than normal. They began trudging up a hill, hoping that when they reached the crest, they saw what they needed to see. Hope was all they had left now, after the clothes on their back and the memories in their heads. They reached the top of the hill. Stopped for a second. Linda spotted it first.

There! She pointed to a small cabin about half a mile off, on the right side of the road. Luckily for them, it was downhill now and they could move a bit faster. Their momentum carried them and within nine minutes, they were there. By now it was raining steadily, and as they clambered onto the porch, it began to pour. She walked up and pulled at the door. Nothing. Pushed. Once again, nothing. She looked at Linda with a face full of despair, and began walking to the window next to the door. The glass was shattered. She lowered herself in, and went and unbolted the door. Linda walked in and she rebolted it.

Now we wait.

They were inside of the house for two long days, waiting out the storm. They found no food or drink within the cabin, though in the bedroom they saw a couple of rotting bodies. They kept that door closed and locked.

When the end of the storm came, they left the house and began to walk on the road. Everything seemed new; clean. The ash had all been wiped off of the road. It was still a grey colour, though it was easier to walk on. The sky was no longer that horrid dark grey, but a much lighter grey; a steel grey. It made them happy to know that the sky was so light, and she swore that she saw a patch of sky; a circle of sky that was lighter.


End file.
